The Mark of Athena (The Heroes of Olympus #3)(132)

“I told you that would never work,” Otis muttered.

“And the time my brother covered himself with meat and ran through an obstacle course of drakons—”

“You said Hephaestus-TV would show it during prime time,” Otis said. “No one even saw me.”

“Well, this spectacle will be even better,” Ephialtes promised. “The Romans always wanted bread and circuses—food and entertainment! As we destroy their city, I will offer them both. Behold, a sample!”

Something dropped from the ceiling and landed at Percy’s feet: a loaf of sandwich bread in a white plastic wrapper with red and yellow dots.

Percy picked it up. “Wonder bread?”

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Ephialtes’s eyes danced with crazy excitement. “You can keep that loaf. I plan on distributing millions to the people of Rome as I obliterate them.”

“Wonder bread is good,” Otis admitted. “Though the Romans should dance for it.”

Percy glanced over at Nico, who was just starting to move. Percy wanted him to be at least conscious enough to crawl out of the way when the fighting started. And Percy needed more information from the giants about Annabeth, and where his other friends were being kept.

“Maybe,” Percy ventured, “you should bring our other friends here. You know, spectacular deaths…the more the merrier, right?”

“Hmm.” Ephialtes fiddled with a button on his Hawaiian shirt. “No. It’s really too late to change the choreography. But never fear. The circuses will be marvelous! Ah…not the modern sort of circus, mind you. That would require clowns, and I hate clowns.”

“Everyone hates clowns,” Otis said. “Even other clowns hate clowns.”

“Exactly,” his brother agreed. “But we have much better entertainment planned! The three of you will die in agony, up above, where all the gods and mortals can watch. But that’s just the opening ceremony! In the old days, games went on for days or weeks. Our spectacle—the destruction of Rome—will go on for one full month until Gaea awakens.”

“Wait,” Jason said. “One month, and Gaea wakes up?”

Ephialtes waved away the question. “Yes, yes. Something about August First being the best date to destroy all humanity. Not important! In her infinite wisdom, the Earth Mother has agreed that Rome can be destroyed first, slowly and spectacularly. It’s only fitting!”

“So…” Percy couldn’t believe he was talking about the end of the world with a loaf of Wonder bread in his hand. “You’re Gaea’s warm-up act.”

Ephialtes’s face darkened. “This is no warm-up, demigod! We’ll release wild animals and monsters into the streets. Our special effects department will produce fires and earthquakes. Sinkholes and volcanoes will appear randomly out of nowhere! Ghosts will run rampant.”

“The ghost thing won’t work,” Otis said. “Our focus groups say it won’t pull ratings.”

“Doubters!” Ephialtes said. “This hypogeum can make anything work!”

Ephialtes stormed over to a big table covered with a sheet. He pulled the sheet away, revealing a collection of levers and knobs almost as complicated-looking as Leo’s control panel on the Argo II.

“This button?” Ephialtes said. “This one will eject a dozen rabid wolves into the Forum. And this one will summon automaton gladiators to battle tourists at the Trevi Fountain. This one will cause the Tiber to flood its banks so we can reenact a naval battle right in the Piazza Navona! Percy Jackson, you should appreciate that, as a son of Poseidon!”

“Uh…I still think the letting us go idea is better,” Percy said.

“He’s right,” Piper tried again. “Otherwise we get into this whole confrontation thing. We fight you. You fight us. We wreck your plans. You know, we’ve defeated a lot of giants lately. I’d hate for things to get out of control.”

Ephialtes nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right.”

Piper blinked. “I am?”

“We can’t let things get out of control,” the giant agreed. “Everything has to be timed perfectly. But don’t worry. I’ve choreographed your deaths. You’ll love it.”

Nico started to crawl away, groaning. Percy wanted him to move faster and to groan less. He considered throwing his Wonder bread at him.

Jason switched his sword hand. “And if we refuse to cooperate with your spectacle?”

“Well, you can’t kill us.” Ephialtes laughed, as if the idea was ridiculous. “You have no gods with you, and that’s the only way you could hope to triumph. So really, it would be much more sensible to die painfully. Sorry, but the show must go on.”

This giant was even worse than that sea god Phorcys back in Atlanta, Percy realized. Ephialtes wasn’t so much the anti-Dionysus. He was Dionysus gone crazy on steroids. Sure, Dionysus was the god of revelry and out-of-control parties. But Ephialtes was all about riot and ruin for pleasure.

Percy looked at his friends. “I’m getting tired of this guy’s shirt.”

“Combat time?” Piper grabbed her horn of plenty.

“I hate Wonder bread,” Jason said.

Together, they charged.

Chapter 46

Things went wrong immediately.The giants vanished in twin puffs of smoke. They reappeared halfway across the room, each in a different spot. Percy sprinted toward Ephialtes, but slots in the floor opened under his feet, and metal walls shot up on either side, separating him from his friends.